Snock Story
by badly-knitted
Summary: It's a normal night at the Hub, until Ianto comes across something that would be anything BUT normal, anywhere other than Torchwood. Written for Amnesty at fan flashworks, using Challenges 94: Footwear, 72: Lost and Found, and 61: Transformation. First of a series.
1. Snock Shock

**Title:** Snock Shock

 **Author:** badly-knitted

 **Characters:** Ianto, Jack, Snocks.

 **Rating:** PG

 **Word Count:** 2029

 **Spoilers:** Nada.

 **Summary:** It's a normal night at the Hub, until Ianto comes across something that would be anything BUT normal, anywhere other than Torchwood.

 **Content Notes:** None needed.

 **Written For:** Challenge 219: Amnesty at fan_flashworks, using Challenge 94: Footwear. Also fits 72, Lost and Found, and 61, Transformation.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Torchwood, or the characters.

 **A/N:** Thanks to smallhobbit for inventing snocks and generously giving me permission to write about them!

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 **grobbebol:** Owen will get over it. He might even find Xericha educational. He'll soon be the expert on her species.

Thank you!

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.

Ianto had tried, repeatedly, but perhaps Jack was simply too old and set in his ways because he seemed unable to persuade his lover to put all his dirty laundry in one place, namely the laundry hamper. Then again, there was no guarantee he'd be anywhere near said hamper when he shed his clothes for some after-hours fun.

The Hub was Jack's home, and he saw no reason to restrict such activities to his tiny, cramped, poorly lit bunker when there were so many more imaginative places that added a bit of spice to proceedings. Add to that the frequent games of naked hide and seek they indulged in, during which individual items of clothing were hidden in different places throughout the Hub, and it was only natural that some of those items might get misplaced, only to turn up days, or even weeks later when their forgotten hiding places were stumbled upon by chance. Ianto still remembered Owen's horrified and disgusted reaction a couple of months ago on discovering a pair of Jack's shorts hidden in the pocket of his lab coat.

Because he was fortunate enough to be blessed with a near photographic memory, Ianto never forgot where he hid anything, but perhaps inevitably, since Jack's attention was always on winning the game rather than remembering where he left his socks, some of the Captain's clothes disappeared without a trace. Ianto had always assumed that Myfanwy, with her keen sense of smell and surprisingly dexterous beak, ferreted them out to add to her nest; he did occasionally discover the odd sock or two mingled with her straw so it was a plausible theory, but now he was starting to wonder.

When he'd caught sight of a flicker of movement deep in the shadows beneath the spiral staircase leading up to Jack's office, he'd naturally gone to investigate. It was late, the Hub had long since been powered down to night mode, but there'd been a Rift alert an hour or so ago, and he and Jack had just returned from retrieving what had come through. It hadn't been interesting, just another Caffronian calculator to add to the nine that were already in the archives, but Ianto had taken it straight down to his desk anyway, to be dealt with in the morning, intending to stop off in the kitchen area on the way back and make a relaxing pot of tea; he and Jack needed to unwind before bed. Although coffee was their drink of choice during the day, at this time of night there was nothing better than a nice cuppa, especially after being out in the cold. So the kitchen was where he was headed after leaving the archives, when he'd caught that tiny movement from the corner of his eye.

He'd approached slowly and as quietly as he could, unsure of what he might discover. Maybe it was a rat; he still wasn't convinced all of Owen's had been recaptured after they'd escaped that time, although Owen swore they were all accounted for. Then again, it could be a bird that had slipped in through the invisible lift; that happened occasionally, usually a pigeon but on one occasion a seagull had got in. There was even a chance that it could be the little multi-legged alien that had given Jack the slip a few months earlier. The smaller alien species could be remarkably adaptable. Of all the things it might have been, however, what he discovered was a possibility that had never so much as crossed his mind.

It was a sock, only it wasn't, and he took a couple of hurried steps backwards, remembering all too clearly the events of a couple of years ago, when he'd been set upon and almost suffocated by a swarm of vicious and predatory sock creatures. This lone one was different from that savage band though; where they had been short, stocky, and gaily patterned in bright colours, this one was long, thin, and plain dark grey. In fact, in most respects it resembled one of Jack's socks. Except for the part where it was moving on its own, slithering and twining around itself. For a moment he wondered if maybe something small, a mouse perhaps, had found one of Jack's socks and crept inside it, but that thought went right out of his head when the sock hissed at him.

Could it be a snake stuck in a sock? That was a bizarre, not to mention disturbing thought. If there were snakes in the Hub… Or was it perhaps a sock that thought it was a snake? That wasn't as far-fetched as the general population of Cardiff might assume. Once you'd been with Torchwood for a while, it became necessary to re-evaluate what was within the realms of possibility. Jack's Coat, for instance, while still definitely a coat, could heal itself and had a mind of its own, even though it was incapable of much in the way of independent movement. If a coat could attain a degree of sentience, then why couldn't the same thing, or something similar, happen to a sock? Leave one alone long enough, doused in Rift energy and who knew what else, and might it not evolve into something more than merely a humble sock? Especially if it was one of Jack's. Being worn repeatedly by an immortal whose whole body was infused with the power of the vortex, in a way it was surprising that more of Jack's clothes hadn't taken on lives of their own.

Or maybe they had. Catching sight of more movement in the shadows, Ianto squinted and could just about make out what could be another four, maybe even five writhing, snakelike socks.

"Wonderful," Ianto muttered. "Now we have a problem with socks that think they're snakes, or snakes that used to be socks…" He shook his head in resignation. "Rats are one thing, but who do you call about a snock infestation? Oh, that's right; me."

"Ianto?" Jack's voice drifted down from the top of the spiral staircase. "What's taking so long? I thought you said you were going to make tea?"

"I was. Slight change of plans."

"Why?"

"How many socks have you lost recently? Or rather, how many have you not found after naked hide and seek?"

"I don't know; it's not like I've been keeping count. I lose some, I buy some more. Why does it matter?"

"Because thanks to you, now we have a snock problem."

"You've lost me. What's a snock?"

"Thin, grey, about eighteen inches long, used to be socks, hiss like snakes…"

Jack clomped down the stairs. "What are you on about?"

By now, Ianto had moved closer to the snocks, into the shadows beneath the stairs. He made a quick grab and with a triumphant shout of, "Gotcha!" emerged, gripping the first snock he'd spotted. He held it up to show Jack. "This," he said, "is a snock, half sock, half snake. I just hope they're not venomous."

The tail end of the snock wrapped itself around Ianto's forearm, while the head end twisted from side to side, hissing. Ianto had gripped it just behind its head in case it tried to bite, but now, seeing it in close-up, that didn't seem likely; it didn't have any teeth, although it did have eyes, like shiny black buttons. It felt soft and fuzzy in his hand, with a knitted texture, exactly like a wool sock and yet more solid. The main part of its body was approximately an inch in diameter, tapering to a narrower but blunt-ended tail. Once it realised it couldn't escape, it gave up struggling and went limp in Ianto's grasp.

Jack blinked at the snock. "You're saying that's one of my lost socks?"

"I'm saying there's a good chance it used to be; it does bear an uncanny resemblance to one of your socks." It even had a little hump about a third of the way along its body, sort of a vestigial heel. "I really shouldn't be surprised; nothing around here is normal, so why shouldn't abandoned socks evolve into snocks?"

"Huh. I wonder what they eat." Jack was studying the snock curiously.

"Jack, focus; we're not discussing the natural history of the common snock! We need to decide what to do about them. Who knows how many are lurking around the Hub?"

"That could be the only…"

Ianto cut him off before he could finish. "It's not. There are several more under the stairs and who's to say there might not be more elsewhere? This could be just one family group, or a pack, or whatever the collective noun for snocks might be. They could be breeding! We might end up overrun with snock-kind!"

"Aren't you overreacting a little bit? I think it's kind of cute." Jack reached out a finger and tickled the snock. It made a purring sound. "Like that, do you? Hey, if it used to be one of my socks, maybe it recognises me! Seems like a friendly little fellow."

"Next you'll be wanting to keep it as a pet," Ianto grumbled.

Jack's face lit up. "That's not a bad idea!"

"Me and my big mouth," Ianto muttered under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Jack, we've been through this before; you can't go around making pets out of random creatures."

"Why not? If it grew out of my sock, that means it's technically still mine, doesn't it?" Jack crouched down and peered into the shadows under the stairs, holding out his hand. "Come on, little snocks, come to daddy," he coaxed.

Ianto groaned and facepalmed with the hand not holding the snock. "I give up."

It took a few minutes, but eventually the other snocks crept tentatively out of hiding. One of them lunged sideways to pounce on a dust bunny, chomping it up with relish and licking its 'lips' with a fuzzy grey tongue. Jack plucked up a bit of fluff and held it out. Slowly one of the snocks inched closer and suddenly snatched the morsel from Jack's fingers, gulping in down.

"See?" He glanced over his shoulder at Ianto. "Now why would you want to get rid of them when they're so useful? Fearless hunters of dust bunnies."

It was obvious to Ianto that he was fast losing control of the situation; maybe he should just give in gracefully. Stooping to pick up a bit of fluff himself, he offered it to the captive snock, who delicately accepted it. He supposed it was sort of cute, in a sockish kind of way, and the creatures would keep the dust bunnies from getting out of control. Even with the best will in the world, he couldn't be expected to keep the vast expanse of the Hub spotless all by himself. He did the best he could with the areas that were in use, but a bit of assistance wouldn't go amiss.

"I suppose, as long as they don't develop a taste for the wiring insulation or our clothes, then it won't do any harm to live and let live. I'm not sure how the others will feel about sharing the Hub with roving packs of snocks, but…" he shrugged. "They seem harmless enough."

"Hear that, kids?" Jack tickled the nearest snock, the one he'd been hand-feeding. "As long as you don't get underfoot or start eating the wrong things, you get to enjoy the run of this place, and all the dust bunnies you can eat."

"Better let you rejoin your family," Ianto said to the captive snock in his hand, crouching down to release the creature. It unwrapped itself from his arm and slithered to the floor, but didn't run away, just started mooching about, grazing on bits of dust, seeming unconcerned about his presence now it realized it wasn't going to be harmed. "Right, I'll make the tea." Leaving Jack playing with the snocks, Ianto crossed the kitchen area, filled the kettle, and put it on, getting out the rest of the tea things while waiting for it to boil. Despite his better judgement, it looked like the snocks were here to stay.

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The End


	2. The Joy Of Snocks

**Title:** The Joy Of Snocks – Snockquel to 'Snock Shock'

 **Author:** badly-knitted

 **Characters:** Ianto, Jack, Gwen, Tosh, Owen, Snocks.

 **Rating:** PG

 **Word Count:** 1781

 **Spoilers:** Nada.

 **Summary:** After a difficult mission, the team are all feeling a bit down until the snocks make their presence known.

 **Content Notes:** None needed.

 **Written For:** Challenge 219: Amnesty at fan_flashworks, using Challenge 130: Identity. Also fits 36, Introductions, and 46, Comfort.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Torchwood, or the characters.

 **A/N:** Thanks to smallhobbit for inventing snocks and generously giving me permission to write about them!

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It was late evening again, just over a week since Ianto and Jack had discovered what had become of Jack's lost socks; some of them anyway. The team had just returned from defending the earth, or the part of it known to most of the world as Cardiff, from a band of extremely hostile alien invaders, and all of them were feeling tired and dispirited. They'd won, but it had been a long and hard fought battle, and although they'd tried their best to save everyone, there had been two civilian casualties.

Kathy Swanson had tried to convince Jack and the others that it hadn't been their fault, but they couldn't help feeling that if they'd arrived just a few minutes sooner, they might have been able to get the hapless camping couple to safety before the would-be invaders' spaceship landed right on top of their tent while they were still inside it. Not a pleasant way to go.

Traipsing disconsolately into the main Hub, they'd each made for their own work area while Ianto headed to the kitchen to make them all a consoling cup of hot chocolate. Slumping down silently at their desks, intending to write their reports quickly before going home so they could put recent events out of their minds, they were just getting started when Gwen let out a squeal and jerked her feet up off the floor.

"Something just went under my desk!"

Ianto paused, almost to the kitchen area, and turned back. "What did it look like?"

"I'm not sure, I only caught a glimpse, but it was long and grey, and… I think it was a snake! It hissed at me!"

"Oh that's alright then."

"What do you mean it's alright? There's a snake in the Hub! You have to get rid of it, Ianto! What if it bites someone?"

By now, Tosh and Owen had shifted away from their desks and were peering cautiously into the gloom beneath. "Gwen's right," Owen said. "Could be venomous. Might even be alien."

"It's neither. There's nothing to worry about; it isn't a snake, it's a snock, and they're not at all dangerous, unless you happen to be a dust bunny. Then you'd have to be on your guard."

"Did you say 'snock'?" Owen was torn between disbelief and laughter.

"I did."

"What the fuck's a snock when it's at home?"

"Used to be one of my socks." Hearing the commotion, Jack had come out of his office to lean on the catwalk railing. "I've lost a few around the Hub, and it would seem they've somehow evolved into a new life-form. Ianto decided because they're snakelike socks that makes them snocks. It suits them; they're cute."

"And you knew about these things and didn't think to tell the rest of us?" Gwen asked indignantly. She bent awkwardly in her seat to peep under her desk, trying to spot the errant snock without putting her feet on the floor, just in case Ianto was wrong about the identity of the intruder.

Ianto shrugged. "Didn't think I'd need to. They keep to the shadows, as far as we can tell they're mostly nocturnal, and I honestly didn't expect them to venture into the more frequently used areas of the Hub. I keep things clean around your desks so there's not much there for them to eat."

"How can socks come to life though?" Tosh wanted to know. "I mean, they're machine made, mostly from synthetic materials. I can understand living creatures undergoing genetic mutations over time, but socks don't have genes, it shouldn't be possible for them to mutate!"

"How did Jack's coat take on a life of its own?" Ianto asked in return. "We still don't have an explanation for that, but it happened. I suppose there's no reason why his socks shouldn't follow suit. Anyway, I'm not really sure the how of it matters. They're alive now; their own independent species, and they're not doing any harm. Quite the contrary, in fact; they're keeping the dust bunnies down so as far as I'm concerned they're welcome to stay." He didn't mention that he'd been dubious about them to start with as well; the others didn't need to know that. During the last week or so they'd started to grow on him, and they only hissed when alarmed. The rest of the time they were really quite charming, in an odd sort of way.

"I want to get a look at one of these snocks," Owen declared. "Study it, find out how it works…"

"No way! You are not cutting up any of my snocks, Owen Harper! They're a protected species!"

"Relax, I never said anything about dissecting them, I just want to run a few scans."

"And what if scanning harms them in some way? Do you want to be responsible for the death of an innocent snock?"

Coming hard on the heels of their failure to save the campers, that question hit a nerve and Owen winced. "Okay, fine, no cutting and no scanning of snocks. Do I at least have permission to look at one?"

"Well, okay, but only if you can catch one without scaring or hurting it. Snocks are very shy, sensitive creatures."

Just then, Tosh emerged from under her workstation, a snock coiled around her arm. "Look! Isn't it adorable? I coaxed it out of hiding with a bit of fluff from the back of my desk drawer."

"Give it here!" Owen held out his hand, but Tosh turned away, shielding the snock.

"No! Find your own snock, this one's mine."

Jack pouted. "They evolved from my socks, so technically, that means all snocks are mine."

"Don't be greedy," Tosh chastised. "It's not fair to the rest of us if you hog all the snocks."

"Tosh is right," Ianto said, taking his best friend's side over his lover's. "The rate you lose socks, there's bound to be plenty of snocks to go around." He glanced towards Tosh. "Just don't get into the habit of feeding them. We don't want them to get lazy and fat, so they stop hunting dust bunnies. Besides, they might start eating fluff off your clothes, and then graduate to eating the clothes themselves."

"That's a good point. We can still play with them though, can't we?" Tosh pleaded.

Jack emerged from under the spiral staircase with two snocks. "I'm going to teach mine to play fetch." He handed a snock to Ianto. "I think this is the one you caught last week, I recognise the ribbed pattern. This one," he held up the other snock, "is the one I was playing with. She has a little darned area right on the tip of her nose. I'm calling her Patch."

"How do you know it's a female?" Ianto asked curiously, looking closely at the snock wound around his hand. If there was any way of determining snock gender, he didn't have a clue what it might be.

"I don't. Just looks like a girl to me."

"Do you think they can breed?" Tosh wondered.

"No idea," Ianto said. "We don't even know how many of them there are. I've seen five or six, but there could be more.

Gwen was under her workstation now, searching for the snock she'd seen and wondering if that was the one Tosh had found, but no; there was the snock, tightly coiled against the leg of her desk, watching her warily. It was a darker grey than Tosh's. "Come on, I won't hurt you," she coaxed, holding out her hand. It hissed a warning so she straightened up and dug in her jacket for some pocket lint before trying again. Eventually, the small creature accepted her offering, but it was still several minutes before it allowed itself to be picked up. "Oh! It's soft and a bit fuzzy."

"Like your head," Owen muttered to himself.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, just clearing my throat."

Tosh hid a smile. "I suppose it stands to reason they'd feel sort of woollen. They must be warm-blooded though, or whatever it is they have in place of blood. They're quite solid too, and strong for their size."

"I wouldn't know," Owen grouched, slumped in his desk chair, arms folded over his chest. He was the only one without a snock now, not having found one under his own desk.

Jack took pity on him, fetching one for him from the cluster beneath the stairs. "Just don't do anything to harm or scare it." He set the snock on Owen's lap, but remained close enough to rescue it if necessary. "That one's Scratchy. I remember that pair of socks; they looked good but the wool they were made of was too rough to be comfortable."

Ianto eyed Jack suspiciously. "Wait a minute; have you named all the snocks under the stairs?"

"Um, yes?" At Ianto's raised eyebrow, he continued, "Okay, I admit it, I've been playing with them when you've been elsewhere."

Ianto rolled his eyes. "Typical. I should've known. So what's this one called?"

"That's Frodo. He's one of the smallest, but very brave. Tosh has got Merry, and Gwen's got Pip, the darkest one."

"Is that all of them?"

"No, there's four more under there; Itchy, Mo, Fred, and Tiny Tim. I think there's another pack living behind the armoury, and a third down near the interrogation room. This lot are the friendliest because their nest is the closest to where we spend most of our time. Would you agree they're likely to be territorial, Owen?"

"Huh?" Owen didn't even bother looking up; he appeared to have completely forgotten about studying snock anatomy and behaviour. Scratchy was curled up on his thigh, vibrating with barely audible purrs as the medic ran one finger along its body, tracing the spiral it made from head to tail, then returning to its head to begin again.

"Never mind, it's not important."

"Whatever."

The girls too were sitting at their desks, absorbed in petting and playing with the snocks, and Ianto belatedly realised that without intending to, he was gently scratching Frodo's head with a fingertip. When he stopped, the snock nudged his finger to make him continue. It seemed to be enjoying the attention; indeed, they all did. Chuckling, Ianto went to join Jack, who had gone to sit on the sofa with Patch. As he sat down beside his lover, he decided the drinks he'd been going to make when they arrived back could wait a while longer; no one really needed them right now, too busy discovering the simple pleasures an odd snock could provide. Snocks, it seemed, were almost as comforting as hot chocolate.

.

The End


	3. Snocked

**Title:** Snocked – Snockquel to 'The Joy Of Snocks'

 **Author:** badly-knitted

 **Characters:** Ianto, Jack, Tosh, Owen, Gwen, random Snock.

 **Rating:** PG

 **Word Count:** 2228

 **Spoilers:** Nada.

 **Summary:** An important and very sensitive piece of the Hub's equipment breaks down unexpectedly, but discovering the cause is just the beginning.

 **Content Notes:** None needed.

 **Written For:** Challenge 222: Breakdown at fan_flashworks.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Torchwood, or the characters.

 **A/N:** Thanks to smallhobbit for inventing snocks and generously giving me permission to write about them!

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"Problems?" Ianto asked when he noticed Tosh tapping at her keyboard and frowning at her computer screen.

"What?" his friend looked up at him distractedly, then, "Oh, no, not really; the Rift predictor seems a bit sluggish this morning, that's all. Probably just a temporary glitch."

"Huh. Should be fine, I only overhauled the systems yesterday, but maybe I missed something. I'll check it out as soon as I get a minute; bit busy right now." Leaving Tosh's coffee on her desk, Ianto picked up his tray and continued on his way.

"Thanks, Ianto," Tosh called after him.

"You're welcome," Ianto called back over his shoulder as he disappeared into Jack's office.

Ianto really did mean to check the problem out as soon as possible, it wouldn't do to have the Rift predictor break down if it could be avoided, but unfortunately what had already been a busy day got ever busier a short while later. Aliens always seemed to pick the most inconvenient moments to invade earth; was someone somewhere sending out a memo? Gearing up, the team headed out to put a stop to the latest attempt.

It was hours later when the team, minus Gwen who they'd dropped off at her flat on their way back, finally straggled wearily back into the Hub. Ianto made straight for the coffee machine to brew the rest of them a revivifying hot drink. Despite being worn out, they were all in high spirits; victory against seemingly impossible odds tended to have that effect.

At her workstation, Tosh turned her computers back on, brought the Rift monitor online and began checking the logs for activity to make sure they hadn't missed any alerts while they'd been otherwise occupied. She hadn't got very far before the sub-etheric resonator started to make a weird clonking noise.

Abandoning the coffee, Ianto dashed out of the kitchen carrying his toolbox. "It shouldn't be doing that! Shut it down, Tosh!"

Tosh did try, inputting emergency shut-off codes as fast as she could type, but it was a losing battle. Over the next thirty seconds, the clonking speeded up to a rapid clatter that became a whine and then rose to an ear-splitting screech. Ianto was almost to the resonator when there was a loud bang; the Hub shook, and the lights flickered, blinking out briefly before steadying again.

"Oh, that did not sound good!" Ianto picked himself up off the floor, where he'd been tossed by the explosion, and dusted his suit off, staring at the wisp of smoke curling from behind the panels concealing the sub-etheric resonator.

"Ianto! Are you okay?" Jack arrived at his side, reaching out a steadying hand.

"I'm fine; a few more bruises to add to my collection. Not so sure about the resonator though."

"Sorry, Ianto," Tosh called down from her workstation. "I shut it down as fast as I could."

"Don't worry about it." Ianto threw a glance back over his shoulder towards his friend, smiling wryly. "It's completely off now, right?"

"Should be."

"Good, thanks. Don't want to get myself electrocuted on top of everything else."

"Maybe I should open it up, just in case," Jack suggested. "If it's going to kill anyone, I'd rather it be me than you."

Under normal circumstances, Ianto would probably have refused, but since he had no way of knowing how much damage might have been done inside the machinery, it was a sensible precaution. "Okay, but be careful, and put these on." He handed Jack a pair of heavy-duty rubberised gloves that should provide protection from power-surges and random electrical discharge, and donned a pair himself. "Just go slow and careful." He stood to one side, fire extinguisher at the ready, as Jack unclipped the access panel and set it to one side.

More smoke filtered out of the opening, but whatever fire might have ignited inside had already burned itself out, leaving behind only some charred wiring. Side by side, Ianto and Jack peered into the interior.

"Can you fix it?"

Ianto sighed heavily. "Should be able to, doesn't look like any of the major systems are damaged. It'll take a while though; some of the components are fried."

"Tosh and I can help, can't we?" Jack turned to Tosh, who'd joined them without Ianto noticing.

"Of course we will; just tell us what you need us to do."

"Right, well one of you can start by passing me the current detector; I'll need to get right inside the housing to strip out the damaged components, and I'd rather know if there's anything live in there before I try it."

Tosh dug through Ianto's toolbox and passed him the requested piece of equipment. "Here."

"Thanks. What I really want to know is why it's broken down now. I ran my regular monthly maintenance check on it less than twenty-four hours ago and oiled everything. It was fine then; no loose wires, no overheating components, no visible wear and tear, nothing whatsoever that could have caused it to seize up the way it has. I'd stake my reputation on it." Ianto somehow managed to sound baffled, indignant, and pissed off, all at once. Jack never failed to be impressed by the way his lover could multi-task anything.

"Machinery's perverse that way. It always breaks down at the worst possible time. Maybe a gremlin got inside it." That was a typically Jack opinion.

"You watch too many movies." Having checked there was no risk of bumping into anything carrying a potentially lethal current, Ianto slipped inside the machinery and began removing damaged components while Tosh made a list of what would have to be replaced and Jack passed his lover whatever tools he needed.

They worked steadily for twenty minutes before Ianto suddenly stopped. "Ah, I think I can see what caused the problem. Something's jammed in the cooling system." Ianto twisted awkwardly in the confined space, shining his torch on the mystery object, and the other two heard his horrified gasp. "Oh no!"

"What?" Jack demanded. "What is it?"

"It's a snock."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, quite sure," Ianto said sadly. "One must have slipped in yesterday… Damn, all of this is my fault; I ran out of grease, I should've closed the panel before I went to fetch another tub. The poor little thing must have been curious and snuck inside while I wasn't there." He bent with difficulty and carefully extracted the small creature from where it had become wedged in the blades of the intake fan. It took some doing, but after several minutes he managed to free it and backed out of the hatch, cradling the mangled little body tenderly in both hands.

"Poor little snock." There were tears in Tosh's eyes. "What a horrible way to die, all because curiosity got the better of it."

"Wait a minute," Jack gasped. "Did it just move?"

The small grey snock twitched feebly and Ianto stared wide-eyed at Jack. "It's still alive!" He spun on his heel, hurrying towards the autopsy bay, yelling, "Owen, get over here! Got a patient for you!"

"What is it?" Owen grumbled, ambling over. He'd been dozing at his desk and wasn't too pleased about being woken up.

"Injured snock; it looks serious."

Hurrying beside him, Tosh fetched a sterile cloth and spread it on the autopsy table for Ianto to put the snock on. It was leaking pinkish fluid from several tears in its body.

Jack joined them a moment later. "I've closed the hatch to keep any other curious snocks out."

Ianto nodded. "Good, thanks. I should've thought of that."

"You had your hands full. Literally."

Owen almost fell down the steps in his rush to reach his patient. "A snock? Any idea which one?"

"I don't recognise it," Jack said, peering over Ianto's shoulder. "Must be from one of the other flocks, probably the one based near the interrogation room."

Practically skidding to a halt on the tiled floor, Owen looked at the snock. "I'll have to scan it to determine the extent of its injuries."

"But… we don't know if scanning it will harm it!" Jack frowned worriedly at the medic.

"No, we don't," Owen agreed. "But from the look of its injuries, it's dead anyway if we do nothing, and without knowing more about snock anatomy I could kill it while trying to help it. If it's to have any chance of surviving I have to do this."

Jack drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Alright; do it." He looked down at the patient. "Hang in there, little snock. Owen will take good care of you.

Owen ran his medical scanner the length of the snock, nose to tail and then back again, studying the readouts. "Fairly rudimentary internal organs; that's probably a good thing. It has a basic digestive system, a small brain, lungs, heart, and a circulatory system. If I stitch the wounds and administer fluids, it might have a chance, providing shock doesn't kill it." He dripped a tiny drop of a mild sedative into the snock's mouth, waited a moment for it to take effect, and then set to work, delicately cleaning and stitching each of the tears, using a magnifier so he could see what he was doing.

The rest of the team stood back so Owen could work without them getting in his way, but none of them could bear to leave, even though it was getting late and Ianto still had the repairs on the sub-etheric generator to complete. Right now the life of an innocent snock hung in the balance.

After nearly an hour, Owen set his medical instruments to one side. "I've done all I can, now it's up to this little chap. Ianto, can you dig out the incubator we used for those eggs a while back?"

"On it." Ianto went to fetch the incubator from the equipment storage locker, bringing it back and placing it on the cabinets at the side of the autopsy bay.

Owen left his patient just long enough to get everything set up, adjusting the temperature to a level that would be comfortable for the patient, lining the interior with sterile cloths and providing a small pot of fresh water before carefully lifting the snock and settling it in the warm interior, careful to jostle it as little as possible. Jack disappeared, returning a few minutes later with several plump dust bunnies, in case the snock got hungry. Owen took them without a word and placed them in the incubator, near the snock's head, so it wouldn't have to move much, then pulled a stool over beside it so he could keep a close eye on his patient while he wrote up what he'd learned about snock anatomy.

"Suppose I'd better finish fixing the resonator and check there aren't any more snocks stuck in it." Ianto shambled tiredly towards the steps, and after a brief moment, Jack and Tosh followed him.

Repairs and a thorough snock-check took another hour and a half, by which time it was past eleven at night. None of them had eaten since breakfast, and because of the invasion attempt and the sudden and unexpected breakdown of the sub-etheric resonator, they hadn't had a drink since their mid-morning coffee either. Worn out though he was, Ianto made tea and doled it out with hurriedly ordered pizza. They all needed to keep their strength up.

At midnight, Tosh said a reluctant goodnight and headed home in the hope of getting a few hours' sleep before she needed to be back at work. Owen set up monitors to alert him to any problems with his patient, who lay unmoving but still breathing, and staggered out of the autopsy bay to crash on the battered old sofa. Jack set the Hub to night mode before going in search of his lover. Unsurprisingly, he found Ianto sitting on Owen's stool beside the incubator.

"It's not your fault." Jack rested one hand on Ianto's shoulder.

"Isn't it? I know better than to leave access panels open on sensitive machinery, and I should be doubly careful now I know about the snocks. Bad enough that my carelessness has resulted in one being seriously injured, but the entire Hub could've blown up and killed all of us."

"It didn't."

"Not this time, no, but I should've been more careful."

"You will be in future; we all will. I'll ask Owen in the morning about the feasibility of tagging all the snocks so we can keep track of them more easily. How's this one doing?"

"Better than I would've expected."

The snock stirred, turning its woolly head slightly and lapping up a drop of water with its fuzzy grey tongue, then nibbling at a bit of dust bunny before dozing off again. It was a reassuring sight.

"Come on; let's leave it to rest. It's been a rough day; you should get some sleep too." Jack urged Ianto to his feet.

"I suppose I should." With once final glance back at the recuperating snock, Ianto let Jack lead him out of the autopsy bay towards the cramped bunker beneath his office.

As he climbed down the ladder, Ianto promised himself this was absolutely the last time any of Torchwood's equipment was going to get accidentally snocked; once was already one time too many!

.

The End


	4. Snockology

**Title:** Snockology – Snockquel to 'Snocked'

 **Author:** badly-knitted

 **Characters:** Owen, Snock, Ianto.

 **Rating:** PG

 **Spoilers:** Nada

 **Summary:** Only is trying to get what he's learned so far about Snock biology down in a form the rest of the team, and hopefully future teams, will be able to understand without needing a medical degree.

 **Word Count:** 1418

 **Content Notes:** None needed.

 **Written For:** Challenge 106: Anatomy at beattheblackdog.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Torchwood, or the characters.

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Settling in at his computer, Owen opened a new document, checked his notes, and began to type…

ANATOMY OF THE COMMON SNOCK

He frowned. Was that strictly accurate? Could snocks be considered common? Thanks to Jack, there were quite a lot of them lurking in the shadowy corners of Torchwood's underground base, they still didn't have an accurate count of them, but it was unlikely that they existed elsewhere in the world, or even in Cardiff. It was Jack's habit of permanently losing socks in odd places around the Hub, combined with close proximity to the Rift, that had created the creatures in the first place, and it was possible that Jack's unusual traits of immortality and rapid healing might have contributed to their evolution in some as yet indefinable way.

He tried again…

ANATOMY OF THE SNOCK

Leaning back in his chair he stared at the screen. That title was perhaps more accurate, but it felt somehow incomplete. Anatomy of the Greater Snock? But then what if bigger snocks were discovered at a later date? Lesser Snock? Ankle socks might one day result in a smaller subspecies.

He sat forward, cleared the screen, and resumed typing…

ANATOMY OF THE HARKNESS SNOCK

He deleted that immediately with a shake of his head. No, that would just make Jack even more bigheaded than he already was, not to mention more possessive when it came to the snocks. He was already trying to hog them when strictly speaking every member of the team should have an equal right to them. Ah, of course!

ANATOMY OF THE TORCHWOOD SNOCK

That was fairer; it made the snocks the collective property of Torchwood, rather than the property of one individual. Just because the snocks used to be Jack's socks didn't mean he had sole right to them. Relaxing back into his seat, Owen continued to type…

The Torchwood Snock is a snakelike creatures evolved from lost woollen socks. The average snock measures approximately 18 inches in length, with a body circumference of approximately 4.5 inches at its widest point. There is a small hump, or vestigial heel, one third of the way along its body. The head is blunt-nosed and the body tapers to a narrower tail with a rounded tip.

The skin of the snock has a knitted texture, but varies between ribbed and plain with both textures often appearing on the same snock. It feels soft and slightly fuzzy to the touch. The most common colour is grey, although snocks exhibit a wide range of shades from a pale silvery grey to almost black; they have two round, black, lidless eyes measuring a little less than half an inch in diameter, one on either side of their heads, and two almost invisible nostrils situated at the very tip of the snout.

The mouth is similar to that of a snake, but completely toothless, the inside being pale pink in colour. A slightly fuzzy grey tongue similar to that of a cat enables the snock to lap water and lick up its diet of dust and fluff.

Scans reveal that the internal structure of a snock is quite primitive. It has fairly rudimentary organs, a basic heart, a single lung or air sac, and a stomach, but no obvious reproductive organs, leading me to suspect that snocks are either infertile or have an as yet unknown method of reproducing.

The circulatory system carries a pinkish fluid around the body that serves a similar purpose to blood, carrying oxygen and nutrients to the various organs and the small brain. However, analysis of the fluid suggests it has more in common with lymph than with blood.

Snocks have a threadlike nervous system that extends throughout the body, with the greatest concentration of nerve-endings unsurprisingly situated in the sensitive snout and lips.

There is no skeletal structure at all. The internal organs appear to be housed within a porous and extremely flexible tube that varies in width and extends from the back of the throat to the tip of the tail. Furthermore, the brain is protected by a bubble of the same material that is both separate from and attached to the tube.

The rest of the body appears to be constructed entirely of muscle and sinew, no doubt accounting for its flexibility. The skin and underlying flesh can be torn, but evidence suggests that the tube containing a snock's organs is much tougher and can be squashed almost completely flat without causing internal damage, making them remarkably resilient creatures. Flesh wounds, though obviously painful, are relatively easy to repair and even severe tears, once stitched closed, will generally knit back together in little more than a week.

Leaning back in his chair again, Owen checked over what he'd written and decided that was good enough for general usage of those without a medical degree. It was always necessary to write a version of his notes that the layman could understand. Get too technical and the information went right over the heads of the rest of the team. He'd write up a more complete report to go with this one later, once he had the results back on the tissue and fluid samples he'd taken while treating his latest patient.

Speaking of which… Pushing his chair back from his desk, Owen made his way down to the medical bay and peered into the incubator where the injured snock was living while it recovered. Most of the tears in its body were almost healed by now, and it dabbed at the glass front of the incubator with its nose when it saw Owen, wriggling happily.

Owen raised the lid of the incubator and lifted the snock out to examine it. Well, that's what he'd tell anyone if they happened to notice. Plucking a plump dust bunny from a jar beside the incubator, he sat down, put the snock on his lap, and fed it.

"How're you doing today, Scrap?"

The snock looked up at him, purring, and nudged at his fingers. He stroked it gently, careful not to touch any of the stitched areas; they were still a bit sore. In a few days though, it would be fully recovered and ready to return to the rest of its flock, if they'd accept it back after its long absence. Owen knew he'd miss the little creature, he'd grown quite fond of it, but if he tried to keep it as a pet… That wouldn't be fair, it should be with others of its kind. He didn't want Scrap to get lonely. Three more days and he'd set it free, but he'd keep an eye on it for a few days after its release, just for his own peace of mind.

"How's the patient?" Ianto set a mug of coffee down beside the incubator, propping his tray against the cabinets and crouching down to look at the snock, stroking its head with one finger. Ianto had been the one to rescue it from its predicament and still blamed himself for its injuries because if he hadn't left the access panel off the sub-etheric resonator, the snock wouldn't have wandered inside and become jammed in the machinery. It was lucky to be alive.

"It's doing okay. Should be completely healed in another day or two, then I'll remove the stitches and keep it under observation for twenty-four hours before letting it free."

"D'you think it'll be okay out on its own? I mean it's so tame now. Will it be able to fend for itself?"

"I've implanted a microchip in its hump so I'll be able to keep track of it and make sure it's finding enough to eat. Shouldn't be a problem though."

"I don't know; the flock under the stairs really battle it out sometimes, fighting over the best bits of fluff."

"That's natural behaviour in the wild. Snocks are a lot tougher than they look." Owen tried to be reassuring even though he had the same concerns over the snock's future as Ianto had. "Just try not to let Harkness lose any more of his socks or we'll soon be overrun with snock-kind."

"I'll do my best." Ianto straightened up. "Right, back to work I suppose." Picking up his empty tray he left the medical bay.

Owen sipped his coffee and relaxed, petting the snock; he should get on with some work too, before Jack got on his case. He smiled to himself; work could wait until he'd finished his coffee. It wasn't going anywhere.

.

The End


	5. Snocktaking

**Title:** Snocktaking – Snockquel to Snockology

 **Author:** badly-knitted

 **Characters:** Ianto, Jack, Owen, Tosh, Gwen, Snocks.

 **Rating:** PG

 **Word Count:** 2017

 **Spoilers:** Nada.

 **Summary:** It's time the team attempted to find out exactly how many snocks there are lurking around the Hub. What better way than to do a snock-take?

 **Content Notes:** None needed.

 **Written For:** Challenge 224: Hunt at fan_flashworks.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Torchwood, or the characters.

 **A/N:** Thanks to smallhobbit for inventing snocks and generously giving me permission to write about them!

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"I've been thinking…" Ianto said at the start of Torchwood's regular morning meeting, also know as breakfast since most of the team didn't bother eating until they arrived at the Hub. The coffee there was so much better than anything they could get elsewhere.

Owen cut Ianto off, mumbling through a mouthful of doughnut. "I don't like the sound of that. Every time you start a sentence that way it ends up meaning more work for the rest of us."

"Yes, because it's my goal in life to make sure you earn your pay," Ianto snarked back. "You're not being paid to sit on your arse all day playing computer games. Her Majesty deserves to get full value for money spent." The Rift had been quiet for the past couple of days and looked like staying that way into the following week. Everyone had been making use of the downtime to catch up on routine tasks, with the exception of Owen, who'd been finding more enjoyable, and far less productive, ways of passing the time.

"What d'you expect me to do? I'm a doctor with no patients to treat, and no dead bodies to study, although if you're volunteering…"

This time it was Ianto who cut Owen off before he could finish his sentence, raising his voice to be heard. "I've been thinking that since we have time on our hands, this might be a good opportunity to round up all the snocks and microchip them, so we can keep track of their movements around the Hub. If we know how many there are and where they live, we can hopefully avoid any more of them coming to harm."

Scrap, the injured snock, was almost fully recovered and would soon be released back into its natural environment. Owen had already implanted a tiny microchip in its hump so he could track it and make sure it was accepted back into its flock, but that had set Ianto thinking about all the other resident snocks. How many of them had been injured or even killed before the team had become aware of their presence? Now they'd been discovered, it was only right that certain precautions should be taken to ensure they remained healthy.

"You want to carry out a snock census?" Jack asked, grinning.

"I was thinking more along the lines of a snock-take," Ianto replied, somehow managing to keep a straight face as he delivered the terrible pun.

Jack chuckled. "Snock-take, nice one! It's a good idea though; it might prove useful to know exactly how many snocks are lurking out of sight. Right, we'll do it; today is set aside for snock-taking. As soon as we're finished here, we'll each take a box, pick a section of the Hub, and round up all the snocks living there. Make sure you keep a record of which snocks come from where, so we can release them back into their home territories as soon as Owen's checked them over and microchipped them."

Ianto nodded approval. "That's more or less what I was going to suggest. Right, so now that's sorted, what else is on the agenda?"

For the rest of breakfast, the team discussed other matters, but as soon as everything had been cleared away and the assorted plates and mugs were in the dishwasher, Jack gathered everyone together by the old sofa, where Ianto handed out large plastic containment boxes, judging that the slippery sides should make it impossible for captured snocks to climb out.

"Okay, listen up, kids! I'll take the flock under the spiral staircase to start with; they know me so I shouldn't have any trouble catching them. Ianto, take the area behind the armoury, Gwen, behind the Rift pool, Tosh, over near the interrogation room, Owen, around the invisible lift. When you clear an area, take your box of snocks down to the autopsy bay for Owen to deal with, then pick up another box, and search somewhere else."

"Oi! That's not fair!" Owen grouched. "I have to hunt snocks and then spend ages examining and microchipping them?"

"Owen's right for once," Ianto said. "He should wait in the med bay and 'chip the snocks as the rest of us bring them to him. Afterwards, before we let them loose again, I want to photograph them all so we can identify them later if necessary."

"Sensible," Owen agreed. "We can number the ones that don't have names, maybe assign each flock a letter, 'A' for the armoury flock, 'S' for the ones under the staircase…"

Jack frowned. "I don't know; numbers seem a bit impersonal. Snocks are living, feeling creatures; imagine going through life being called A-7, or S-4."

"I am not a number, I am a free snock," Ianto intoned, making everyone laugh. "Maybe we could give all the armoury snocks names beginning with A or something, a different letter of the alphabet for each flock, except for the ones under the staircase, since they already have names."

Owen nodded. "Yeah, that'll work."

"Okay, now we all know what we're doing, let's get on with the snock-taking!" Jack said cheerfully. "Happy hunting, kids!"

Unsurprisingly, hunting snocks turned out to be quite a pleasant pursuit. Who wouldn't enjoy playing with snocks all day given the opportunity? It beat doing paperwork or battling monsters. Snocks were a whole lot friendlier than the average Weevil, and much more appealing to look at.

While some snock flocks were less used to humans and therefore more timid and harder to catch, they were also inquisitive little creatures, and could often be coaxed out of hiding with a nice fat dust bunny. That still didn't make catching them a straightforward task. Their tendency to make their homes in awkward places meant the team were required to scrabble about under catwalks, behind old machinery, and in various gaps and crevices. Crawling around on the concrete floors, particularly in the areas Ianto didn't generally bother to clean, left everyone a bit grimy, but that was nothing compared to the kinds of substances they got splattered with on a regular basis when out in the field. Dust washed off a lot easier than blood or slime so nobody was overly bothered about getting mucky. Gwen said searching out snocks reminded her of Easter egg hunts when she was a kid, except that Easter eggs didn't try to wriggle away when you got hold of them.

Even Owen was happy, sitting in the medical bay, surrounded by carefully labelled boxes of snocks, microchipping them one boxful at a time, and giving each snock a quick health check as well. Most of the snocks were various shades of grey, making them difficult to distinguish from one another, so he made notes of distinguishing marks such as darned patches, ribbing, and scars. A couple had narrow stripes around their tail ends, some blue, and some black, and there were even a couple of white snocks among the armoury flock. Whether or not those had once belonged to Jack was anybody's guess.

By lunchtime, thirteen flocks of snocks had been collected from different locations around the Hub, each flock numbering between seven and twelve individuals, for a grand total of a hundred and twenty-seven snocks. Ianto raised an eyebrow at that.

"Exactly how many socks have you managed to lose?" he asked Jack, who looked equally surprised at the number.

"I didn't think it was that many; maybe they really are breeding somehow. Then again, I've lived here for a very long time, so I've probably misplaced quite a few over the years."

"Ianto's not the first person you've played naked hide and seek with then?" Owen piped up, then winced, clearly wising he'd kept his mouth shut. Some things were best not mentioned if you didn't want to wind up reaching for the Retcon.

"Never thought I was," Ianto said mildly.

"Are you volunteering?" Jack leered at Owen. "We can always use a third."

"No way, leave me out of your games!"

"You don't know what you're missing." To everyone's surprise it wasn't Jack who spoke.

Owen's eyes nearly popped out of his head and he stared at Ianto in disbelief. The snock he was examining squeaked in protest as he squeezed it a bit too hard. "I can't believe you just said that! You're getting as bad as Jack!"

"I prefer to think of myself as open-minded," Ianto smirked.

"Disgusting is more like it." Owen petted the snock in apology, injected its microchip, and logged the number beside the snock's description, weight, and measurements. He figured if they were going to keep records of the snock population, it might as well be done properly, with a file for each snock. Maybe Ianto would insist on an annual snock-take to keep abreast of numbers, and it would prove interesting to find out how much a snock grew in the course of a year. If they grew at all and didn't just go from sock to snock spontaneously and remain unchanged for the rest of their lives. Despite all the notes he'd made while caring for the injured Scrap, he still knew so little about the creatures. Someday snocks might become more widespread; especially if it turned out they were able to breed. The more he could learn about them, the better. He'd be the foremost authority on snock-kind.

"Do you think this is all of them?" Tosh asked.

"Don't really know," Ianto told his friend. "It's always possible a few managed to stay hidden when we rounded up the other members of their flocks, and there could be other flocks elsewhere in the Hub, maybe in the archives or near the cells. I think we've rounded up most of the ones living in the main Hub though. We could try setting box traps elsewhere and see if we catch anything, that would tell us whether or not snocks are confined to this immediate area. For now, we should concentrate on the ones we've got. If, when we go to release them, we spot any others, we can grab them for chipping."

"Maybe we should each keep an eye on two or three flocks," Tosh suggested. "Get to know each snock by sight. That way if we missed any, we should be able to spot the stragglers and bring them to Owen for a health check and… um… registration?"

Surprisingly, Owen was all for that idea. "Yeah, that would be a good way to study snock behaviour in their natural habitat."

"You all just want an excuse to play with my snocks," Jack pouted.

"They're not just your snocks, Jack," Ianto said firmly. "They're communal property now. There's more than enough to go around. If you want sole ownership, that means you'll be doing the next snock-take all by yourself."

"You wouldn't!"

"Wouldn't I? Your snocks, your responsibility. But if you agree to shared ownership and shared responsibility…"

"You drive a hard bargain. Fine, you win; we share the snocks, and the snock-taking, equally."

"Good. Now…" Ianto picked up Jack's digital camera. "Photo time!"

Jack beamed. "Do you want me with clothes or without? Personally, I think without would be best…" Jack started to unbutton his shirt.

"Not you, twpsyn, the snocks!"

"Oh." Jack looked disappointed; then he had an idea and perked up. "I could pose with them!"

"One hundred and twenty-seven times?" Ianto raised an eyebrow at his lover.

"I'm game if you are!"

"You would be, but I think not. I'm not taking family portraits; these photos are for identification purposes only."

"Snock mugshots," Owen deadpanned.

The infamous Jack Harkness pout made an appearance. "Fine," Jack grumbled, then a hopeful note entered his voice. "Maybe you could take some of me after?"

"No promises. Let's get started." Ianto turned the camera on. "Owen, first snock please." He adjusted the camera's settings to get the clearest possible picture as Owen set the first snock on a white tray for contrast. Snapping a couple of pictures, one from each side, he sighed. "One down, one hundred and twenty-six to go. This could take a while."

.

TBC


End file.
